"Turf vitality" is a question that has of late years more or less exercised the pens of some keen critics of horse-racing; but the vitality of the turf may be taken for granted even by those who are despondent in consequence of the increase of short-distance races, and the consequent degeneration of our breeds of horses with "stamina." There is nothing to be despondent over or to grumble about, and there is at the present time a plethora of sport. More horses are now being bred for racing purposes than were ever bred before; our public stables are everywhere full of high-mettled steeds. Many farmers find a business in supplying hay and corn for the stables of Newmarket; trainers' bills become yearly more and more onerous; but for all that, constant accessions to those who carry on the sport of kings are being recorded. The value of the money stakes and trophies of the pastime, which are now being run for, goes on increasing; twenty years ago, a matter of £200 was thought to be a stake worth winning, now £2,000 may be added to a handicap without exciting any sense of wonder. Who, then, dare say, in the face of such facts, that the decadence of the "national pastime" has begun? Clerks of courses, during the last ten years, have experienced a flourishing time, the public attend on our racecourses in increasing numbers, every newspaper of importance devotes a large portion of its space to the news of the turf, whilst three daily papers cater specially for the sporting public, and it is no exaggeration to say that the wires of the telegraphic system are largely employed in distributing news of all kinds respecting the horse-racing of the period. The messages incident to the conduct of "sport" at Epsom and Ascot, as also at Goodwood and Doncaster, are marvellously numerous. To conclude, it has to be said of "the sport of kings" that, so long as it is surrounded by that army of gamblers, which now so flatly flourishes on all our racecourses, it will continue to be what it has long since become, a monstrous game of speculation.
JOCKEYS.
In Newmarket and other racing stables there are a very large number of boys employed—one for each horse—most of whom are apprenticed while very young to the trainers, to be taught the business of a groom. Only a small number of these boys develop, however, into passable jockeys, and fewer still into what may be termed great horsemen. Many of the lads grow so rapidly that they soon become useless in the racing saddle. Every now and again, however, a lad of merit and mettle emerges from the crowd of his fellows and earns a reputation as a consummate horseman; but as there are more than a thousand stable-boys, and only, perhaps, some twenty jockeys of repute, it is obvious that the prizes, as in other professions, are few, and the blanks many. These stable-lads are taught their business with much care, and in every respect are well looked after. They are taken to church every Sunday, and in some training establishments there is Sabbath school and other teaching as well. One trainer, a remarkable man in his calling, not satisfied with two visits to church for his lads, invariably read to them at night one of Blair's sermons. If one of the boys was so unlucky as to fall asleep, he was at once brought to a sense of his iniquity by a touch or two from a long whip, which his master kept beside him ready for use.
Discipline must be observed in a racing stable, but, as a rule, the lads are humanely treated, corporal punishment not being resorted to now, as it used to be in the days of old. As an illustration of jockey life half a century ago, it may be mentioned that a Yorkshire trainer, named Smith, was invariably severe with his lads, but "was cruel only to be kind." When administering a round of the cane, he used to utter a kind of apology. His usual homily to his victim was: "Thou'lt come to me in ten years' time, my lad, and thank me on thy knees for saving thee from the gallows." The race of old physical force trainers is nearly extinct, and their successors of to-day are generally well-educated men, learned in the character and structure of the animal they train. At many of the racing stables the wives of the trainers take a warm interest in the morals of the boys, and look after them with motherly regard. On some training grounds no work is done on Sundays, on that day the horses are merely exercised.
In course of time, one of the many lads engaged in the stables shows himself to be of the stuff of which successful jockeys are made, and that being so, makes his way to the front, and after a few trials finds himself elevated to the proud position of premier horseman, with every prospect, if he be careful of his earnings, of making, in the course of a few years, a splendid fortune. But he must "keep his head" and not forget himself, as many a jockey before him has done. "The evolution of the jockey" has, in one instance, been described by "Borderer," a well-known contributor to the literature of the turf.
It was "Borderer's" lot to see a little dark-eyed boy amongst a lot riding at exercise for an Epsom trainer some thirty years ago, and to ask the trainer about him.
"Yes, sir," replied the trainer, "that little chap has not been with me long; he is the son of a man who drives a mail-cart about London for the General Post Office. He gets kicked off twice a week, but is a nice boy."
"Let him ride in that trial to-morrow," replied I, "that we are arranging to have."